


Breaking Into School

by Zanne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Teenchester, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-23
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanne/pseuds/Zanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters are about to leave town, so Dean does one last favor for Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Into School

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to mymuseandi and yasminke for agreeing to beta! Kripke owns all.(Originally posted 7/1/10)

Sam sat on his bed with his back to Dean, his duffel bag laying open beside him, still mostly empty.

“C’mon, Sammy. Gotta pack up. Dad will be back to pick us up in a couple of hours.”

Sam didn’t shift, but Dean heard his small sigh, and the tight voice that asked, “Do we _have_ to go?”

“You know we have to. Dad’s got another hunt lined up in Louisiana.”

Dean wasn’t prepared for the look of fury that he saw on Sam’s face when he turned, making his still childish features take on an adult cast and giving hints to the lean lines he would grow into. He knew things had been getting harder for Sam since he started high school, but Dean had hoped Sam would fall into line as he got older, and realize why this was so important.

“Why do we have to go with him? He hunts on his own just fine. He doesn’t need us!”

“We’re family, Sam. Of course we need to go. He might need our help.”

“We’re nothing more than luggage. All he needs is someone to carry the weapons.”

Dean’s hands tightened on the t-shirt he was holding, and he heard the faint sound of stressed cloth as the fabric pulled against the stitches, so he dropped the shirt into his pack before he tore it in half. “He’s our dad, Sam. Show some respect.”

Sam’s mutinous expression turned towards the wall, and Dean angrily stuffed more clothes into his bag and pretended he hadn’t heard the muffled sniffle coming from Sam’s direction.

“I liked it here,” Sam said to the wall, still not looking at his brother. “I was on the school newspaper and…Sara said colleges like things like that.”

“Sara?” Dean asked, arching an eyebrow pointedly.

“She was the editor of the school paper.” Sam turned to face him and smiled at him weakly, his eyes bright, but his voice steady. “She gave me my first assignment this week.”

“Really?” Dean stood up, surprised at the news, expecting Sam to have shared something like that already. “Congrats, Sam!”

His little brother shrugged, pride warring with disappointment on his face. “Doesn’t matter. It’s due by Friday and we’re leaving today.” His gaze drifted to the desk where a pile of papers sat tidily on the corner, and he grimaced before saying, “And I finished it, too. All that work for nothing.”

Sam rose to his feet and shuffled towards the bathroom, locking the door closed behind him.

Dean glanced from the closed door, to the desk, and back again, before grabbing his jacket and shouting towards the bathroom, “Hey, Sammy! I’m gonna go out and grab some dinner. Keep packin’!”

With that, he snatched the stack of papers off the desk and headed out the door. 

                                                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean rose from his knees, sliding the lock picks into his back pocket, Sam’s article clenched between his teeth. He snagged the paper from his mouth, hoping a little spit and a serious set of teeth marks wouldn’t work against his brother, and pushed his way inside.

It was past 8:00 on a Wednesday, and the school was empty. It took Dean a moment to orient himself in the dark halls, the entire building looking completely different when it wasn’t full of stuffed shirt, preppie-wanna-bes and girls in short skirts with even shorter attention spans.

God, Dean had hated it here, and was glad to leave it behind, but Sam had apparently loved it.

Dean got to a junction in the hallway and looked from left to right, his brow furrowing in thought. He wasn’t really sure where the school newspaper office was, since he didn’t spend any more time here than necessary, but he had a vague recollection of making out with a girl in the art room, and all of the electives seemed to house themselves in the left wing. Dean shrugged; it was as good a clue as any.

As he jogged slowly down the hallway, he squinted to read the small plaques by each door. Most of them were nothing more than numbers, but as he reached the end of the hallway, he started to see titles attached – Art, Music, Photography, and finally, Newspaper.

Silently cheering himself on, he tried the door, only to find it locked. Grumbling, he got to his knees and yanked out his trusty lock picks, Sam’s article once more taking its place between his teeth.

With a huff of breath that rattled the pages hanging from his mouth, Dean stood up and pushed the door open, revealing the scarred surfaces of the desks reflecting in the streetlight spilling through the windows, the desktop computers casting sharp shadows over the plastic seats. Dean sidled his way through the chairs and cords stretching everywhere, dropping Sam’s article on the front desk and hoping it wouldn’t be missed.

Dean was heading back towards the door when he heard the squeak of wheels coming down the hall, a rough voice singing something that might have been country and heavy footsteps slapping against the tile. He ducked under a table as the janitor danced his way in, Vincent’s heavy hips making the table Dean was under screech in complaint as it slid across the floor.

Vincent didn’t even look in its direction, humming along to whatever was playing on the little radio clipped to his belt as he emptied the trash and straightened a few things around the room. When he turned to close the blinds, Dean slipped out from underneath the table and ran down the corridor towards the exit.

Dean took a peek at his watch and grimaced. He was running out of time. 

                                                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dammit, Dean. Where have you been? I told you we’d be leaving tonight.” John’s frown carved its way over his face, hiding the softer edges of his features beneath the scruff of his beard.

Dean stood in the door to their motel room, gripping the bags of hamburgers in his hand as he loosely held his keys in the other. “Just went to grab some dinner,” he told his father. “You said you probably wouldn’t be here until ten.”

“I’m here _now_ , and Sam and I are ready to go. Eat in the car. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

“Sure thing. Just let me grab my-”

John tossed his duffel at him, the heavy weight of it pushing him pack a few steps. “Done. Let’s go.”

Their father stalked out the door to return the room key as the boys loaded their gear into Dean’s car, settling into its familiar interior as they waited for their dad to get in his truck and lead them to their next stop.

“Here you go, Sammy,” Dean said, stuffing one of the bags against his brother’s chest. “Eat up.”

He watched Sam pick at the lettuce hanging off his burger as they pulled out onto the road after their dad, the younger boy’s face sullen and drawn. As they pulled onto the interstate, the engine purring happily as it picked up speed, Dean focused on the dark road in front of him as he said casually, “I read your article. You made school parking sound a little less boring than usual.”

Sam looked over at him, obviously surprised, before that sour lemon face came back again. “I couldn’t find it before we left. It wasn’t on the desk, and Dad wouldn’t let me look for it. He probably threw it away.”

“No, he didn’t,” Dean reassured him, reaching for some fries. “We couldn’t deprive the students at Riverton High of your skills, right?”

Comprehension dawned, and a slow smile spread over Sam’s face. He didn’t say anything, but he turned towards the windshield as he took a large bite of his hamburger, sauce smearing over his cheeks.  



End file.
